


sucking too hard on a lollipop.

by honeyssey, thackeryisatop (orphan_account)



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M, Mall Rats AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26159806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyssey/pseuds/honeyssey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thackeryisatop
Summary: Brooke works at the juice stand at the mall and Vanessa works at the makeup counter right across from it and spends all day being a big gay mess crushing on that massive hunk working the blender, until two hours before Halloween, he’s at the beauty shop trying to get his makeup for the big night together and Vanessa has to paint him.[M/M Branjie AU.]Content Warning: Explicit Sexual Content/Sexual References throughout.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Kudos: 12





	sucking too hard on a lollipop.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [sucking too hard on a lollipop.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20974049) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> Originally posted on October 10, 2019 to my previous (now Orphaned) account [listed in co-authors above], and re-uploaded on August 27, 2020 to this profile, which I will use to upload works going forward. I am the original author of this work, and this has not been plagiarized. 
> 
> I deleted my accounts and orphaned fics on impulse, and wanted to post this one again on my current profile, since it’s one of the works that I’m most proud of. The other copy of this work should still exist within bookmarks and links in its original version with the orphan account attached. I’m only posting it again for myself to have on my current, active profile.

"-if you don't come up with a good name, I'm gonna just put you down as Carmen Karpetmuncher. Yes, with the K, 'cause you failed the SAT and you're a lesbian."

"Dude, what the fuck? Not with the K!", Brock whooped, smacking his friend squarely across his broad back.  
  
The two of them had squeezed into the very back of Spencer's, hands shoved deep in the pockets of their gym shorts; at least until the pink-haired girl working the counter had finally turned around to rearrange the shot glasses in the store's window.

With her attention firmly trained to lining up each faux crystal cup to form a rainbow spectrum of weed symbols, all of their boyish embarrassment had disappeared, and Brock and Dane had turned quickly into unapologetic dick pigs, their arms filled with cheap, flimsy faux leather corsets, and supposedly sexy accessories, like the lace thong snaked in between Dane's fingers.

  
"-Besides, what the fuck kind of name is Kameron Michaels?", Brock teased, holding up a harness to his chest to see if he could make it fit.

  
"She's a versatile-"

  
"Bottom."

  
"Fuck you, Brock.", he laughed, heaping another pack of silicone tits on top of the pile in Brock's arms. "Seriously, though. Hurry up- we gotta have names or else we're not gonna be on the list for The Vampy Virgins of Drag."

"You're still gonna be a virgin."

  
"Keep impressing yourself and a guy might just buy the act.", Dane snapped, shaking his head as the smirk fell right from Brock's face.

He had always been so easy to poke at, his bravado slipping immediately whenever someone got in a good hit to his softer parts. Dane enjoyed it, watching Brock start to squirm where he was usually so sure of himself.

"What's that supposed to mean-"

"Chill, dude. I'm kidding. I think we might have to go to Hot Topic, though. No way is my massive cock fitting in this-"

  
They dumped their stack into one of the open fitting rooms, and breezed past the girl at the front, hardly sparing a glance as her eyes rolled skyward.

Brock had a shift at Eggslut later on in the day; but Dane wasn't due at the bar where he worked until the evening, meaning the two of them had plenty of time to try and shop for their brand new drag queen alter egos before they had to be anywhere. It was something new and incredibly exciting for Brock, who had only been out for a few months, though Dane had been itching to try drag for literal years; signing the both of them up for Halloween amateur night at the bar as soon as he'd seen the ad on Facebook.

  
It wasn't even October yet.

  
"- She's kind of cute, isn't she? The girl that works at Spencer's? Maybe we should have asked her what would look cute.", Brock mused aloud, making Dane shake his head, lightly bumping a fist against his shoulder.

  
"Are you bi now, too? I swear, you're the only gay dude I know who's this obsessed with women, bro.", he chuckled, catching Brock's hand happily in his own. "Besides, Courtney's a fucking massive- like, she's gay. Huge flaming lesbian."

  
"She's gay?"

  
"You literally work at this mall. How do you not know- ugh. Forget it."

  
"I don't really talk to people- it's like, my job, not the club."

  
"See, that's your problem. Look at-", Dane threw up his hands as they walked into the food court "- all this trade! Free trade! America, baby!"  
  


* * *

  
Jose had been watching the boy who worked the juice bar at Eggslut for what felt like months; even though he knew the exact day that he had been hired, and it had only been a couple of weeks ago. His first few days, he had come to work every day in a black tank top underneath his apron, his porcelain white arms sculpted so perfectly as he served artfully blended kombucha shakes to every white lady who waited impatiently at the end of the bar. He had a huge goofy grin and even bigger, bushy eyebrows that Jose had noticed almost right after the peek of his pecs as he turned sideways to talk to the girl at the cash register.

The tank top had been replaced with an even more impossibly sinful white t-shirt, threadbare so that his nipples poked out slightly behind the bib of his apron, and Jose had only recently started to notice his hair, the slick honey brown curls plastered to the top of his head, sides freshly shaved.

  
On October the third, his birthday, Jose had finally gathered up the courage to saunter across the mall's obscenely bright tiled floor, his sneakers squeaking over the mosaic of the sun underneath him, bouncing as he slid into line behind a blond woman with an enormous cell phone held in the crook of her neck.

  
Eggslut served absolutely nothing he would eat on his worst day, but there were hand-blended juices on the menu, and he had decided on a simple apple juice to pair with some sushi from the Bento stand several stalls away.

  
"Hi, I can take who's next please!", the Juice Boy shouted from behind his register, and Jose stepped forward confidently, cutting in front of one of those other white ladies.

  
"That's me.", he said, getting only a slight shake of her head in response, not that it mattered too much when the boy's eyes were trained squarely on him; a gorgeous, deep blue that sparkled like the exact place where the ocean met the sky.

  
And then, he blinked.

  
Jose could feel his heart stutter a little.  
"Hi, welcome to Eggslut! What can I get started for you, sir?"

  
"Um...I wanna get a- uh...", he started, forcing himself to think, and concentrate on the menu above the boy's head, though Jose could feel his brain short circuit as he tried to force his mouth to say apple juice.

  
"-I wanna- know, What's your Name?", he blurted out, his cheeks burning as his ears caught up to his mouth.

  
"...oh...", the Juice Boy paused again, licking at his slightly dry lips. He puckered them, sucking in a slow breath. "It's Brock."

  
Brock.

  
It sounded perfect. Every bit of the football player fantasy that Jose had indulged for weeks as he watched Brock at work. Brock sounded like the kind of guy who wore plaid shirts and boots, and drove a huge gas-guzzling car that was terrible for the environment, but in that moment, Jose couldn't bring himself to care. He'd watch the whole world burn if it meant he could see Brock in gray sweatpants, hard abs on display on his couch at home-  
  
"Sir?"

  
"B-....B-banana. I wanna banana juice."  
Brock blinked several times, his face screwing into a puzzled expression.

  
"Do you mean a banana smoothie? Bananas don't have juice.", he said, chuckling a little at himself, clearly so very pleased with his sense of humor.

  
Jose could feel his entire body growing hotter with shame; the white ladies in line behind him hardly sympathetic for what must have looked like some dumbass with a crush holding up their lunch orders.

  
You are a dumbass with a crush holding up their lunch orders, he reminded himself. "N-no. I mean that, banana juice. It's my birthday."

  
"Okay...", Brock huffed a little sigh, and put on his absolute best customer service face, a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes which Jose remembered wearing himself on the last couple of Black Fridays. "I'll see what I can do. That'll be four ninety-five."

  
He handed over his debit card immediately, sweaty palms leaving the square of plastic slightly wet.

"Sir, the machine's on your side." 

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I knew that."

  
Brock just shook his head, the perfect curls bouncing to splay across his forehead, making it just that much harder to breathe.

The resulting drink was of course, absolutely disgusting- a triple blended banana smoothie drowned in syrup and artificial sweetener to mimic the watery consistency of a juice, nearly making him gag as he took his first sip through the straw that Brock had handed him.  
Their hands had brushed briefly when Jose collected his drink; and he had been surprised to find Brock's skin warm, almost impossibly hot for how cool the mall, which always kept the AC on full blast, was.

"Thanks-", Jose choked out, sugar burning his throat on the way down.

  
"You're very welcome, sir. Eggslut would love to have you back.", said Brock; and the sheer shock of hearing him say both "love" and "you" in the very same sentence made Jose's tongue even stickier than the syrup had.

  
He nodded, if a bit over-excitedly, and stumbled away; scurrying back to his station at the MAC store across the hall.

  
He turned back to look at Brock again; once his cheeks had stopped burning; and found him leaning against the corner of the bar; a purple drink in between him and a pink-haired girl who was doubled over in laughter.

  
It might have been his imagination, fresh off the high of actually having spoken to him; but Jose swore that he and Brock locked eyes for just a moment then; and the gorgeous motherfucker winked.  
  


* * *

"-shit- shit- shit...", Brock muttered, as he kicked past a mop bucket on the floor of Eggslut's back room.

His supervisor had let him close up early since it was Halloween night, not that the extra time had actually meant anything, since he was now half-naked, watching himself in the sink mirror as Courtney, the girl from Spencer's who he had surprisingly befriended on his second trip back to pick up their largest, brightest red faux leather harness, sat on an upturned bucket, several palettes of makeup on her lap.

"You don't look that bad. The wig has bangs, it'll cover up your eyebrows a little more-" "I look like a man.", Brock whined.

"Okay, so I'm not a makeup artist. Maybe next time, you can just do it yourself.", Courtney said, flicking at the back of his thigh, which was covered in two layers of tights and the sparkling green fishnets he and Dane had found at Hot Topic. He had tucked well enough, at least as well as one could with craft tape and a grainy tutorial from PornHub on his phone, his cock and balls simply a smaller mound which would be easy to hide under the thick, high-cut shorts he would be wearing under a green lace garter that attached to the lime bustier that would be under his harness.

  
It had all looked fine in Dane's mirror at his apartment, pretty even, but underneath the flickering fluorescent bar of Eggslut's staff room, Brock suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious, far too large and wide and utterly imperfect, and he could only imagine how shitty it would look on stage when he was supposed to be dancing at the bar.

  
He'd never get laid in this city again, and be humiliated on top of it. "I-"

  
"Okay. Deep breaths. The club is the club, dummy. It's not exactly gonna have good light. And it's Virgin Drag night! There's gonna be worse, and you're not even in the top five of bad. Maybe top ten-"

  
Brock made a noise that sounded like a strangled cry, and Courtney sighed.

"Okay. This is what we're gonna do.", she told him, poking her head out from the door. "The MAC Store's still open, and that little banana juice guy is still there. I bet he'll do your whole face for free, and he'll probably let me take whatever I want from clearance if you hold his hand for five seconds."

  
"His name's Jose.", Brock supplied, almost too quickly, making Courtney giggle.

"And how would you know that?"

  
"From his name tag. His name tag has his name." 

* * *

  
Jose hadn't thought of Brock in at least the past hour, if only because Eggslut had closed well before the rest of the mall did; and the store was absolutely trashed from all the people who had blown through in the last hours before Halloween night, hoping to snap up something to finish off their costumes. Just from the state of his receipts for the day; Jose would have bet money there would be a ton of excited little kids, and busted looking drag queens on the streets tonight.

  
His best friend Silky was hosting a party at one of the gay clubs, but he had promised to work until close on Halloween, and his manager would kill him if he didn't clean everything up before leaving. If he was lucky, he might get out before midnight, and still be able to grab a couple of drinks before last call. Jose had done his makeup to fit with the holiday; a creamy orange and gold shadow blended perfectly on his lids, cut with a purple stripe of liner matching his bottom lash line, lips glossed with silver matching the glitter that highlighted his cheekbones.

  
At least he looked cute, and besides, Silky would make sure he could get on the guest list. He took a broom and dustpan from under the front counter, and started to sweep up at the glitter that had been spilled across the floor, humming to himself.

  
The click of heels on tile forced him to look up; only to see what was possibly both of his worst nightmares strut into the store at once. One, busted looking drag queen, and hanging off his arm, a much shorter girl who certainly wasn't a kid, but looked excited nonetheless.  
Jose put on his very best customer service smile and stood to greet them.

  
"Hi, can I help you guys find anything today? Just remember, we closed in a hour."

  
"An hour-", the queen moaned, making Jose stand up a little straighter as he instantly recognized the voice.

"Holy shit.", he whispered to himself, mouth dropping open. "Brock?"

  
"The banana juice guy just clocked me. Fuck this-", he groaned, turning back to girl. "I just wanna go home."

  
"Banana juice guy- wait, wait, hold up. You need to get painted tonight?", Jose asked, so struck by Brock's sudden proximity that he had skipped right over the fact that apparently Brock had a nickname for him, for his friends, who he had clearly talked to about him, too. That was for later.

For now, Brock was deliciously warm, the embarrassment radiating off of him waves. His brows were barely covered by the sloppy concealer completely in the wrong shade, and Jose could see where he'd tried to draw on the edges of the cheap pair of eyelashes he was wearing with extra eyeliner.

  
An absolute rookie mistake, and it was to Brock's credit that he still looked so adorable, busted as all hell underneath the wonderful lights of Jose's station.

  
"Well then, lucky you- I'mma be here all night.", he said too quickly, eagerly taking Brock's arm and leading him over to the chairs in front of the mirror.

  
"Told ya so.", the girl murmured, shoving Brock ahead. "Now I just wondering, where do you guys keep your shimmers...?"

  
Jose pointed her vaguely in the direction of the back, and set to work.   
  
Brock was squirmy, surprisingly twitchy for such a massive hunk of a man, barely fitting in the chairs so obviously made for model-thin teenage girls. Jose was practically straddling him, his body between Brock's legs as he scrubbed away at the mess on his face.  
Brock's leg was bouncing up and down, as his hands fidgeted in his lap, where Jose could see the muscles of his thighs twitch underneath the lace of his garter, the flimsy straps close to snapping and clearly meant for a much smaller woman. His bustier was laced well, flesh spilling from the cups looking as natural as if they had been real tits, which Jose had seen enough queens to know was no easy feat, the harness snaking around his neck leaving a red welt just outside its straps.

Brock's wig was a bright, artificial red to match the harness, resting on his knees, and at that, Jose had to chuckle a little.

Apparently, the whole look was some kind of red and green elf fantasy, which Jose knew- mostly from watching RuPaul's Drag Race with Silky, was going to look like some kind of mess on stage. Then again, drag was supposed to be about expressing yourself, and he couldn't help but find it all so sweet- Brock suddenly so shy, in the very place where Jose was practically king.

  
Their legs were brushing; his muscles hard even through Jose's nicest pair of work pants, and he couldn't help the satisfied grin that spread across his face.

  
"So you...you a drag queen, huh?", he asked, carefully stripping the dollar-store eyelashes from Brock's lids.

  
"My friend signed me up for Halloween and it- shit. I was supposed to be there for nine and I hate being late. Fuck. Guess it's really not my thing, you know?", he said, cracking a tiny grin.

  
"I wouldn't say that. That tuck is pretty fierce, mami.", Jose told him, hoping all that time watching RuPaul and Silky had paid off.  
"Really?"

  
"I mean, I can't see your dick. But you uh...you only doin' this 'cause you lost a bet or are you, y'know-...like, are you gay?"

  
Brock sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah. Isn't it...obvious?"

  
Jose's cheeks burned. "I mean, I dunno. You supposed to be on the down low?"

  
"Not...not since I moved out."

  
"Oh. I...I guess you lookin' like a porn star you know, you could go either way. I was just, tryin' to pay a compliment."

  
"I guess I could do porn. I'd like a lot of money."

"Mmmhmmm."

  
Jose's thumb was running up Brock's cheekbone, completely devoid of any product, though with Brock's eyes trained on the floor, it wasn't like he could tell, and he allowed himself that tiny indulgence, drinking in Brock's scent as he leaned in a little closer.

  
Ironically, Brock smelled like apple juice. 

* * *

  
  
A half an hour later; Jose was standing behind him, hands clasped over Brock's eyes. "Okay, baby- now don't cry or nothing, but in 3-2-1-"  
  
"Holy shit."

  
"You like it?"

  
"I mean, I look like a woman."

  
"I wouldn't be tryin' to buy tampons or anything, but you look fish."

  
Brock bit down on his bottom lip, clearly surprised as none of the deep red lipstick came off on his teeth.

  
"See, I told you the product's legit.", Jose joked, letting Brock get a closer look at himself in the mirror, clearly in awe of his transformation as he shook the powder from his wig and popped it on.

  
"I wouldn't be buying more of these Party City wigs no more either, but hey, you a cute girl. What's your name?"

  
"Um-", Brock looked away again, resting his palms on the counter before them. "It's um- you can't laugh, okay?"

"Never."

  
"Brooke. I think I'd like to be Brooke. Brooke Lynn."

  
Jose buried his giggle, and let his hand float indulgently to card through the absolute mess of a wig atop Brock's head.

  
"Beautiful, Brooke Lynn."

* * *

  
Jose was pretty sure Brock's friend, Courtney with the pink hair who worked at Spencer's, was taking notes on him as he closed up the store and shut off the lights. He'd just have to come in early and clean up tomorrow, which meant he wouldn't be able to make Silky's party- but it was worth it to make sure Brooke Lynn wasn't late.

  
It was her first night out on the town, after all.  
The three of them walked through the mall; lights dimmed as many of the other stores had closed early.

  
"This'll be me.", Courtney piped up suddenly as they passed the doors leading out to the bus terminal.

  
"I have a car, I could give you a ride.", Jose said, sensing Brock's clear discomfort at being left alone.

  
"No, I-", she fished her phone from her pocket and tapped at the screen. "Have a pussy appointment."

  
"Oh."

"Deuces!"

  
Her heels clicked as she walked out the sliding doors, leaving Brock and Jose waiting for the  
elevator down to the parking lot.

  
"I don't think she's actually getting laid.", Brock said as Jose fiddled with his key cards.  
"It's Halloween, papi. It's all about the illusion."  
  
The lot was dark, most of the mall's staff and certainly all of the shoppers having left well before Jose and Brock, in his towering heels, made their way down.

  
"Do you- you seem like you got a lot of practice on those, huh?"

  
"I used to be a dancer. Six years as a professional ballet dancer. This is nothing."

  
Jose could feel his breath freeze in chest; his heart simply refusing to continue beating for a spare moment. "I bet- I bet your toes must be real fucked up."

  
Brock's tongue darted out between his lips, the pink a stark contrast to the sharp red paint. "You wanna see them? I could show you...these are- I'm wearing footless tights."

  
"F-"

  
Before he knew what was happening, Jose had bumped his hip hard against the back bumper of his car, completely oblivious to the reality before him until pain bloomed in his side. "-Ow, fucking-"

Brock's arm looped around his waist, his hand settling just above where the bruise was blooming, pulling him into Brock's chest.  
"I could kiss it better. Can I?" -

  
Jose had been imagining Brock, fucking Brock, kissing Brock, loving Brock, for the better part of what felt like a whole entire lifetime; every memory of every boy he had ever liked suddenly replaced with Brock's stupid smile in his mind- and yet somehow; he hadn't imagined it like this- in the backseat of the Camry he had gotten from his older brother, in the parkade at the mall. Brock had shoved him against the door, leaving him with barely enough time to force it open before their lips had met in a frenzied kiss.

  
Brock was aggressive; as he had expected- but Jose pushed against him, forcing his rough kisses down from Jose's lips to his neck. Sure, he'd been dreaming of Brock in every shower he'd had for the past month, but he wasn't going to let Brock ruin all the hard work he had put into Brooke's face.

  
"-no- wait- we can't-"

  
Brock stilled, scrambling back. "Shit- you okay?"

  
"Yeah- but fuck, that setting powder ain't shit with no biological liquids. We gotta keep it below the neck, baby. You gotta be a princess for me tonight."

  
"I-I'm a top.", Brock sputtered.

  
"Not tonight, you ain't. We ain't doin' ass stuff on this good night. Just you gotta settle in." "But we're gay- "

"You ain't never done shit but ass stuff? Girl!", Jose howled, reaching over Brock's body to open up his glove compartment, where he kept his golden treasure chest of flavored condoms.

  
"Yes I have- I just- do you usually talk this much during sex?"

  
"You're supposed to talk to the other person, you freak. Ain't you pay attention in sex ed?"

  
"I'm from Canada."  
  
"Bitch- the fuck is that have to do- ah. Here we go. I'm banana juice guy, huh?", Jose teased, the little yellow foil package crinkling between his fingers.

"It's just a joke-"  
  
"I'm not joking...bitch."  
  
He bucked up; sinking down so his mouth was level with Brock's hips; his tongue teasing at the exposed space between the top of his tights and the bustier; teeth grazing at the lace of Brooke's garter.  
  
He ripped at it with little care; satisfied to see Brock's expression was eager, not at all mourning the loss of the cheap lace and elastic. The straps snapped with quiet thwacking noises against his cheek, the slight sting wonderfully refreshing.

Propped up on his elbows, Jose's fingers worked the tights down his legs, thumbs hooked in the fishnets; ripping at the delicate fabric as Brock started to buck against his face, until only a pair of panties was in his way, the outline of Brock's tuck clearly visible even in the dim lights of the parkade.  
  
He took them down carefully with his teeth, feeling Brock shudder underneath his touch.

"Bitch- you tried to tuck with scrapbooker tape?"  
  
"Courtney said it was really sticky.", Brock breathed out.

"Beginning to think I ain't trust that bitch, either. This is gonna hurt, okay? Hope you don't scream like Silky."

  
"Who's Silk- Fuck!"

Jose had ripped off the tape in a swift, single movement, tossing the sticky ball into the front seat to be dealt with later. Without it, Brock's cock was a massive, throbbing thing, his balls hanging heavy as blood seemed to flow instantly back into them; his dripping cock springing forward without much work as Jose gleefully slid the condom down his shaft.

"Bananas do make juice, bitch.", he whispered; winking up at Brock; whose eyes were hooded with bliss underneath the shadows of the flickering parkade lights. His jaw started to ache as Brock happily fucked his mouth, pushing his cock deeper inside as Jose forced himself to remember how to breathe.

Jose moaned around Brock's cock, the vibrations traveling up Brock's spine, a low groan escaping him. It doesn't take long, the combination of adrenaline from the absolute thrill of the moment; and the image of himself, balls deep in the cute little guy from the makeup store, his soft hands and the voice that Brock could never forget-

His hand formed a fist in Jose's hair forcing him to take in more of Brock than he thinks is possible; until Brock feels himself let go completely for just a moment, his hold loosening as warmth rushes through his center; and the other boy springs up, his eyes blown wide and desperately gulping at the warm, heavy air around them.

Brock finished himself as Jose watches, on all fours straddling his body; the beautiful silver sheen of his lips gone completely, his lashes slightly crooked from having his face fucked so hard. Brock hadn't even noticed he was wearing lashes, so perfectly blended into his own.

"I don't think I'm making it to the club...", he started, watching Jose struggle breathlessly just above him.  
  
"- You still wanna be a drag queen?" "Maybe."

Jose laughed, his cheeks ruddy with exertion. "Okay, Pretty Boy. Then I gotta introduce you to my good Judy Silk-"  
  



End file.
